


Electric Feel

by redflowerblooming



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild Smut, Recreational Drug Use, shrooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:05:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4283091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redflowerblooming/pseuds/redflowerblooming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is through the need to relax, & be somewhere else for a while, that unites Peter and Stiles.  Getting high together is the only real obvious solution to this of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Electric Feel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taylorpotato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylorpotato/gifts).



> Title from the MGMT song of the same name

  Stiles can’t imagine what it’s like to not be able to get drunk, not even a tiny bit.  Luckily for him, that seems to only be an occasionally-furry-person problem.  Scott was never really one to try ‘recreational activities’ – the first time he drank a beer, he threw up all over his mom’s carpet.  Needless to say, he’s never really had much of a stomach for it.  Stiles doesn’t really like getting drunk that much either, it’s fun on occasion but the hangovers he gets later are _atrocious_.

  Getting high, on the other hand, is a completely different story.  He smokes once in a while, Scott doesn’t get that _either_ , but he doesn’t begrudge him it.  What Stiles likes most are _shrooms_. 

  He’s heard all the stories about how dangerous they are, and how they’ll _destroy his future_ , but he doesn’t really care.  Since creepy-crawlies are always trying to kill him anyways, he’d rather go out having fun than the alternative.  He doesn’t tell Scott or anyone else about it, especially not his dad, though if Scott stops by unexpectedly later he’ll sometimes make a comment about the strange smells on Stiles, but he always manages to distract Scott so he’ll leave it alone.

  For Stiles, getting high is the one time he feels really _free_.  No monster of the week trying to kill him, no geriatric old person beating him up, no getting left behind for ‘research’ while everyone else goes out to do something proactive.  It’s the one thing he can do by himself with no limits – that is, until he starts hanging out with Peter. 

  At first, it’s really annoying being left behind with the guy who tried to kill them – _Not you, Stiles, I never tried to kill you_ – then came back from the dead and was just generally unhelpful.  Then, as they kept being left behind as the ‘research team’, Stiles started to realize how similar the two actually were.  Stiles wasn’t going to go on a killing spree ,though if someone tried to murder his pack he might be persuaded, but they were both witty, sarcastic, and had more shared interests than Stiles would’ve previously thought possible.

  Stiles was absolutely _scandalized_ when he learned that Peter played MMORPGs, less so when learning that Peter also had trouble sleeping at night and therefore stayed up reading or surfing the internet – much like Stiles.  But the biggest shock of all came one night when his dad had a late shift and Scott was busy, so Stiles had decided to partake of one of his favorite illegal activities.  Only a small one this time, as he had to carefully ration out his mushroom supply, and even he knew not to take them all the time anyways.  He had literally been just about to take a miniscule bite – when who comes climbing through his window but Peter _fuckin’_ Hale! 

For a few moments Stiles just sat there and stared, not quite comprehending what was going on, until Peter made as if to move closer, and suddenly Stiles was scrambling to hide the evidence.  Of course, that’s when Peter managed to corner him and pry the shrooms out of his hand, a mildly sinister smile on his face the whole time.  Stiles was staring in shock, mouth open a little until Peter puts his hand under his chin to close it, totally flabbergasted while the former Alpha takes a bite and slowly relaxes.

  While this is happening, he starts laughing at Stiles, who is still staring at him wondering when in the hell this became his life.  Eventually though, when Peter seems like nothing will bother him, his trip starting to take more effect, Stiles recovers enough to half angrily storm over and steal back what’s left over.  Peter was smiling the whole time.

  That’s the real start of how they start hanging out together, as once a month turns into a couple times a week.  They don’t get high every time they hang out, it’s more of a special occasion thing, but when they do it’s _awesome_.  It’s a strange way of bonding for them, one of the few times they can _both_ be free.  It should be weird, getting high with a guy in his late thirties, but somehow… it’s not.

  Who would’ve thought that Peter wanted to spend his free time getting high?  Certainly not Stiles, that’s for sure.  But, as was later explained to him, werewolves can’t get drunk at all (they only hallucinate if it’s tainted with wolfsbane, and that just messes them up) and Peter doesn’t particularly like smoking either.  Shrooms are the one thing that werewolves can enjoy with limited side effects that actually works for them. 

  Besides the rush it gives you, and the sense of freedom, there’s one important thing that happens when they get high.  Stiles definitely relaxes when he’s high, but Peter?  Peter turns into a full-blown _marshmallow_ – as in, gooey on the inside, and soft as hell on the outside.  Seriously, he starts getting really sappy and crazy mellow, nothing like his normal self _at all_.

  It’s _really_ weird at first, Peter being abnormally happy, saying nice things… but eventually, to Stiles, it just becomes another part of who Peter is to him.  When they’re like this, there’s no point in lying, they’re probably not even capable of it – so it’s one of the few times when Stiles knows for a fact that Peter is telling the truth. 

  After the first couple times that they do this together, when they’re still doing it at Stiles’ house ‘cause his dad’s always working late, and Scott’s too busy being a true alpha, Peter says something that Stiles isn’t expecting at all – even in his euphoric state.

  “ _I like you, Stiles_ ” Peter blurts out suddenly when they’re both staring at that weird moving stain in the corner of his ceiling, which kind of looks like it’s waving at them. 

  Stiles looks over at him, though it takes some effort, his head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, and somehow, he instantly knows that what Peter means is nothing like what he said to him at the parking garage when they first met.  So, he reaches over and grasps Peter’s hand with his own, tangling their fingers together.  “ _I like you too, Peter_.”

  Peter seems satisfied with that, smiling goofily, so Stiles is pretty sure that Peter understood what he meant, too.   

*****************************************************

  After that, they start hanging out together at other places: Peter’s apartment, places around town, and even though Scott and the rest of the pack have finally started noticing that he and Peter are hanging out often, and not in a shit-something’s-on-the-loose way either, they mostly seem uncomfortable rather than angry.  That’s just fine with Stiles, as it’s not like Peter’s done anything in a long time anyways to warrant that kind of reaction.  Peter may be a jerk – Stiles is very willing to admit this — but that doesn’t mean he’s constantly hell-bent on _killing_ them all.  Maybe just wanting to maim somebody once in a while.

  Basically, all that happens is Scott takes him aside one day and clasps him on the shoulder, face serious, and says:  “Just be careful.”  Like that, the awkward spell is dispersed and Stiles feels like he can finally stand in the same room with everyone without feeling like he’s going to be judged for all his life’s decisions.

  “Thanks, man.” Stiles smiles, and Scott’s echoing one is such a relief.  He may not care what a lot of people think about him, but Scott’s opinion will always weigh at least somewhat on him.

  “Whatever makes you happy, dude.  You deserve it.” 

  Afterwards, he gets occasional advice or opinions on the situation, but surprisingly none of them are in outright hostility – even Lydia’s. 

  “If he hurts you, I’ll crush his balls with my stilettos”, terrifyingly, she is painting her nails as she says this.  “Otherwise, it’s not my business.  I’m not the one who’s fucking him.”  She rests her hand flat on the coffee table, flipping her hair with her free hand.  Stiles will forever be in awe of her.

  Derek – who technically has the most say in this, as Peter is his uncle – is the only one who wasn’t really fazed by this other than his initial surprise.  When Stiles has confronted him about this, he usually just brushes it off and ignores Stiles or shrugs in response to questioning.  It’s only one day when they’re looking at maps of the preserve while everyone else is off scouting that out of the blue, Derek says:  “He doesn’t fuck around, you know.”

   “What?”, completely confused Stiles just stares at Derek until he looks at him. 

  “Peter.”  At Stiles’ still confused face, Derek rolls his eyes and is forced to elaborate with more words.  “He may like fucking with people normally, but that doesn’t apply to relationships.”  When Stiles tries to protest the ‘relationship’ part, Derek silences him with a look.  “You guys practically live at each other’s homes, you defend each other constantly and can practically finish each other’s sentences, and you’re having sex regularly.  You’re in a relationship.”  Stiles will never cease being amazed at how Derek’s eyebrows can fill in missing pieces of the conversation.  “He genuinely likes you, so he’s not going to fuck that up by doing something insanely stupid like cheat on you or anything else.  He’s an ass, but he’s not stupid.”

  And it’s those words that are the most comforting out of whatever else the rest of the pack has told him.  He knows they haven’t spoken about this to Peter, he has a feeling that they’ve communicated their feelings through a combined aura or something.  But sometimes when he and Peter make out while watching awful horror films, sometimes Derek’s words will come to him again and make him smile. 

                        **********************************************************

  When it finally turns to summer, sometimes they go camping in the woods at the furthest point you can get and still be in Beacon Hills.  There’s a clearing that’s near this small cliff, and it’s a great spot to watch the stars and the clouds.   Peter always makes sure that they’re not too close to the edge – _With your flailing you’d go right over_ – and although Stiles pouts and pretends to be annoyed, he knows with his luck it probably would happen.  

  Lying on a thick blanket, watching the leaves move against the sky, Stiles feels some of the anxiousness that’s often following him around drift away.  Peter comes back from the jeep, carrying a bag filled with snacks – if there’s one thing to know about getting high, it’s that you’re going to be really _hungry_ – as well as a smaller container holding the prize for that evening. 

  Peter drops the bag and sits on the blanket next to Stiles, holding the container behind him as he ignores Stiles’ request to ‘give it to him’, and instead leans in for a kiss.  Their mouths move slowly, they don’t have to rush – his Dad’s working a double shift tonight and barely anyone ever bothers Peter – it’s a gentle press, Stiles releasing a small sound as his lips part, coaxing Peter into delving further.  Stiles’ hand ends up tangled in Peter’s hair, gripping him tightly as Peter twines his tongue around Stiles’.  Peter lets out this pleased rumbling noise, which in turn causes Stiles to moan, pulling on Peter until he’s lying above Stiles on their blanket. 

  Eventually, they have to part for air, Stiles gasping slightly for breath while Peter nuzzles his neck and licks his clavicle.  After a moment, Stiles tries pushing Peter away, though ‘pushing’ a werewolf was more along the lines of gently nudging a brick wall than what he was actually trying to do.  Peter looks affronted for a second before grinning and whipping the container out from behind him with a dramatic flourish.  Stiles pretends to be overly surprised and just as dramatic as Peter – they’re both being asses, but who cares?  It’s just how they are with each other.  Peter finally relents at Stiles’ pouting face, handing him the container after another quick peck.

   Fooling around aside, Stiles pops the lid off the container and removes one of the mushrooms, a little larger than one of the ones they normally take, but since it’s kind of a special occasion they’d decided to indulge a little more than they already were.  They both take an eighth each, and put what’s leftover back in the container to save for some other time. 

  It takes a little while, and for whatever reason it’s usually Peter who starts feeling the effects first, probably due to his werewolf biology pushing it through his system faster, much like it would with wolfsbane.  Or maybe he’s really sensitive – Stiles doesn’t know, what he _does_ know however is that it is _immensely_ entertaining to watch Peter start tripping.  Peter just gets so… _mellow_.  He moves slow and laughs a lot, totally different from his regular self, the only thing that really stays the same is that his sex drive is still crazy high. 

  Peter’s goofy smile makes Stiles want to smile, and as the mushroom starts to take effect, it becomes an unconscious action in response to all the good feelings they’re having.  Especially when Peter leans close and says, _‘I love you’_ – he thinks he’s whispering, but he’s not.  Even if someone else were around it wouldn’t matter, when they’re like this Peter likes everyone to know how he feels about Stiles.  This is why they do this in private, besides of course the illegality of the substance.

                      ******** **************************************************

  Hands.  They are definitely one of the most interesting things after mushrooms.  They flow and drag like they’re doing some strange dance and fingers become little caterpillars crawling away from everything that grounds him.  The imprint of his skin color gets left behind when he moves his hand away from its previous spot, a streak of pale peach waving behind in a slow arc.  He turns towards Peter when he sees a darker arc coming towards him out of the corner of his vision, Peter’s hand drifting past his own, creating a kind of flesh colored double rainbow.  The thought makes him laugh, and once he starts, Peter does too, until they’re both cracking up about something that doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense.

  Stiles loves seeing Peter like this, so free, so uninhibited – just so generally happy it’s nearly infectious.  Here, when Peter smiles, it’s broad and genuine, and he’s downright _beautiful_.  Normally, Peter does smile, but it’s really more of a smirk than anything else, and it becomes almost impossible to tell when he’s actually being sincere.  When they’re like this though, Stiles knows Peter’s every action is wholeheartedly and undoubtedly true to a core part of him that is usually hidden away deep beneath his carefully crafted exterior. 

  Peter’s eyes are just so _blue_.  Stiles can’t even really tell if it’s because he’s wolfed out, or if they’re just a more intense version of how they normally are.  His pupils are small black dots, and Stiles suspects his are much the same, a tiny solar eclipse against a beautiful summer sky. 

  The sun is just beginning to set, and they both watch the colors – red, yellow, orange and blue – streak across the sky, a kaleidoscope of infinite shades and a few they can’t even see combine into a colorful ocean above their heads.  As it disappears beyond the horizon, the colors darken but don’t fade completely.  Even as it becomes black, the dimmer blues and purples help create a warm atmosphere, even in the dark.  The stars help too, little points of light that shimmer to them, glittering like tiny sparks. 

  Stiles feels something brushing against his hand, and when he moves his head, slowly as his head always feels heavy when he’s like this, he sees Peter’s mouth moving against his fingers – looking fascinated by the miniscule twitches that afflict them.  His tongue flicks out again, as if it’s chasing the movements, and the feelings makes Stiles giggle, ticklish as usual. 

  Peter tilts his head, looking up at Stiles, his look of concentration replaced by a warm smile and a low noise that sounds suspiciously close to a purr.  When Peter reaches his arms up he looks like a child, all grins and grabby hands, and Stiles can’t resist giving into him.  He ends up half-laying on top of the werewolf, and knows he isn’t crushing him.  Besides, he doesn’t have time to think about that when Peter is insistently trying to kiss him.  He turns his head so their mouths slot together better, and that’s when all his good feelings start to really kick in. 

  Somehow they get all their clothes off eventually, and Stiles gets flipped under Peter again.  He doesn’t protest much, not when he can take this time to pull Peter’s nipple into his mouth, feeling the older man’s body buck above him.  His concentration is only broken by the sensation of his cock being grasped, a thumb gently rubbing over the head.  A loud moan is his answer, and he can tell Peter enjoys it if the continuous rumbling while he attempts to suck a hickey into Stiles’ neck is any indication.

  After that, the overwhelming sensations take over and the little actions all blend together.  The moon above them is bright, not full yet, but getting close.  There are a few clouds scudding across the sky, occasionally blocking the light and creating shifting shadows that paint their body like a moving canvas.  They’re so wrapped around each other that he isn’t sure where on ends and the other begins – perhaps they don’t, maybe they’ve always been one and it was their dreams that had them as being separate all along. 

  Blue.  Bright points in the darkness, and it’s exactly how Stiles feels when he’s with Peter.  He hears words being muffled into his skin as Peter places kisses down his stomach, and Stiles knows he’s telling him about how much he loves him, how beautiful Stiles is, how happy he is to be with him.  It’s always some variation, so there’s no reason for it to be different this time.  It’s anything but boring, in fact it’s more reassuring than anything else, a testament to how the feelings they usually don’t like to talk about can come out now.  It’s a time for smiles and pure happiness, something they get to share in their private world. 

  The feeling of something cold startles him for a moment, before Peter’s there to distract him for a few seconds before that first delicious push leaves him breathless.  At that point, things seem hazy, but it’s good, like floating on wisps of silk strands.  Peter always makes it good, he never has to worry about that.  When it’s at times like this, they like it to be slow and rhythmic, more about the push-pull than getting to the finish line.  Peter’s thrusts are a gentle force, a boat rocking against calm waves, moving Stiles as he pushes back, their fingers intertwining and hands squeezing tightly as their dance becomes a heated crescendo. 

  Stiles lets out a wet gasp, back arching as that good feeling starts to hit its peak, a soft flame building, consuming him from the inside, lights shining out from his fingers and toes.  He knows Peter is starting to feel it too, though it’s never fire with him and more of an ocean’s wave, gently drowning in sweet ecstasy.   

  Suddenly, the world shifts, and Stiles is falling… Or is he flying?  Wind rushing around him, around them, and he knows Peter is flying too, following him into a supernova beyond the veil.  Are there trees in his eyes, branches reaching out to touch his corneas?  Or are they fireworks?  Billions of stars exploding through space simultaneously, while their remains rain down to cloak him entirely in white. 

  There is nothing for a while after that, and then only shadows and whispers.  When he finally manages to open his eyes, feeling as if he was wearing a lead blindfold, he’s ridiculously warm.  Too warm actually, which clues him in to the fact that Peter is mostly laying on top of him, totally zoned out.  He must grunt or something, trying to get the werewolf to move, ‘cause after a minute Peter turns to look at him, looking at Stiles with something akin to awe (or maybe it’s surprise, he’s having a hard time telling right now). 

  “Whassit?”, Stiles’ words come out wrong, slithering away like little snakes, trying to escape into the night.  Maybe there’s something on his face, it’s kind of hard to concentrate when he’s feeling so relaxed, like a melted pile of marshmallows.

  He can see the colors fading from things, the vibrancy dripping like wet paint and leaving behind duller shades.  His high is gonna come down soon and then he’s going to crash.  Honestly, he won’t be surprised if he falls asleep out here like this, though they should probably put some clothes on in case anyone wanders out here.

Peter comes a little closer, moving more on top of Stiles, which he’s about to protest about, until he feels Peter trying to burrow into his chest, a soothing rumble permeating the air around them.  “ _Stay. Sleep._ ” Peter’s reduced to caveman speech for now, his words slurring around the fangs that must’ve dropped down and with exhaustion creeping fast upon him, Stiles decides that caught nude out in the open is not the worst thing that could happen.  Right before he drops off though, Stiles could almost swear that he hears Peter growl out “ _Mine_ ”, before nipping Stiles’ neck. Then again… Stiles isn’t really sure if he’s even awake at that point.

*******************************************************************

    Later, as they’re packing their stuff back into Peter’s car, movements slow and stiff from both their activities the night before, as he’s closing the trunk door Stiles feels Peter’s arms wrap around his waist.  He stops, wondering what’s going on until Peter says, “ _Stay._ ”  Much like he did the night before. 

    Stiles freezes for a second before opening his mouth, “Well, we have to get into the car unless you wanna live in the woods forever, with your bad wolfy self.” 

    Peter’s grip merely tightens, replying to Stiles’ response with a firm “ _No._ ” 

    Stiles has no idea what’s gotten into him, the shrooms’ effects should’ve have worn off by now, especially for the werewolf, and his communications skills are starting to be worse than Derek’s.  It’s not until he thinks back to the tones of their conversations recently, last night included, and realizes that Peter hadn’t meant not physically moving at all— instead, Stiles instinctively knows now that Peter had been talking about them, about their ‘relationship’ , their past, future, and everything in between.

    It’s a lot, almost too much to think about at one time, but another of those small parts inside him wants nothing more, than to feel this protected, happy, alive as he is with Peter.  He already knows his response as he pushes Peter’s hands away from him, even as he sees the stiffness immediately overtaking Peter— who says nothing, only walks around to the driver’s side and gets in.

    Stiles takes a couple more seconds to look back out over their spot, capturing the hues of the rising sun in his mind’s eye, and is more sure than ever of his decision after seeing Peter’s shuttered expression after he pulled away. 

    He walks around to the passenger’s side, climbing in before he shuts the door and buckles his seatbelt (safety first, you know).  He sees Peter’s hands clenched on the steering wheel, only letting go when Peter notices him watching, and throws the car into drive as they begin to make their way back into town.

  He sits for a little while, and it’s totally silent, Peter’s not even looking at him, no radio or anything else to break the tension.  So of course, Stiles decides that now is better than never.  “Yes” he says, and waits.

    It’s not long at all before Peter actually move his head to look at Stiles, confusion plain on his face as he waits for Stiles to elaborate further.  Stiles sighs like it’s an effort, but of course it isn’t, before giving him a small smile, “Yes, you idiot. I’ll stay.”

  It’s a few seconds more before Peter’s brain seems to keep up with Stiles’ words, and then a smile – a real one, while he’s not even high, crosses his face before he schools his features back into a look of indifference.  Stiles knows though, can read him well enough now to see the small uptick in the corner of his mouth and the tightness of his body that melted away with what he assumed was Stiles’ rejection.  Peter’s feeling of being weightless is obvious, to Stiles at least, and when Peter’s right hand drops off the steering wheel to rest on the console between them, it’s natural for Stiles to cross the distance and take his hand in his own, threading their fingers together while he squeezes gently. 

    They may not be the most conventional, and nor would they want to be, but the feelings that they get when they are with each other is the most addicting thing about their relationship, mushrooms or otherwise.  Of course they help, but for a while Stiles knows that they won’t need any _extra-curricular activities_ to have a good time together.

**Author's Note:**

> Idea came from taylorpotato's headcanon of Peter & Stiles doing shrooms together, & further inspired by the MGMT song i happened to be listening to later. (I know this not really an accurate depiction of what happens, but it was really hard for me to finish it, so i decided not to be accurate & just write whatever instead). Sorry taylor, this is probably nothing like what you were imagining.


End file.
